I Do

Chapter 13 - Hands and Feet

“Okay, two more steps. Left foot first.”

I stifle a laugh behind my hand, still blind to the world around me. Therefore, I need Shelby’s direction as to where to place my feet and her specificity is starting to scare me. “Why do I need to step with my left foot first?”

“Are you seriously still questioning the birthday commissioner? I swear to God I’ll let you die.”

“You wouldn’t.”

“Oh, wouldn’t I?”

Deciding I’d rather not find out, I take the two steps with my left foot first, and at the moment my right foot makes contact with solid ground the air begins buzzing. I scream, startled out of my skin and rip the blindfold off my head, taking a chunk of my hair with it. For a moment I’m so distracted by that pain I don’t see the whirring machine in front of me. 

“Son of a nutcracker!” I cry, holding a hand to my searing scalp. I could swear I feel the hot liquid with the name blood on my head, and sure enough, when I press my palm into the caustic area, it comes away slightly damp with maroon coloring. 

“You made me bleed!” I turn to yell at Shelby, until my eyes finally land on the contraption before me. It towers over my head, leering at least fifteen feet in the air or more. “Ohhhhhhhhhh.” My jaw falls to the ground, followed by a syllable uncontrollable from my lips. 

“What? What is going on? What? What? What?!!!” I wail into the deserted air, seemingly deprived of life and coincidentally, oxygen. Looking down at my attire, I see I’m covered from neck to toe in a clingy red fabric that hangs tight to my frame and is slippery to the touch. The object strapped to my back is only contributing to my impending panic/spaz attack. 

A man dressed nearly identically to myself steps forward, except he has goggles circling his head and covering his eyes. He lifts them up and I can take his features in, which are sharp and contrast nicely with his build, also clearly displayed thanks to our current outfits. 

“This is Clint.” Shelby says, the only words to reach my ears in what feels like eons. “He’ll be going with you today.”

I place one foot behind the other, already preparing my body for flight. Do you know when they talk about adrenaline, or the feeling you get when you’re faced with a scenario where you either stay and fight or run until you have no will left? It’s called fight or flight. 

Yeah, I suggest fleeing.

“Hi.”

I shake my head emphatically, convinced if I toss my brain cells around hard enough they’ll transport me to another time and place. Preferably one where I’m millions of miles away from my obviously mentally insane best friend. 

“No.”

“I’m sorry?” Clint says, furrowing his perfectly smooth forehead and directing his gaze at the devil herself. “What’s going on?”